My marriage is in its final death throes.
Unfortunately, it has been a long and tortuous death, one in which my partner is in such deep denial that I want to punch him directly in the throat for effect. Just to bring him to his senses. I spend my time without me arguing with him in my head about various things. I spend our time "together" actively annoyed that he is in my home. I am angry with him even when he's not here, because he doesn't have the decency to move out and let me get on with my life. And then, occasionally, I confront him in absolute futility with the demand for a separation or divorce or at least a raucous argument. He always just looks at me with those pathetic eyes and says nothing. Nothing. I get nothing. No words. Nothing.
And of course, my feelings make me sound like a complete bitch, because no one else knows all the bullshit that I've had to put up with. All they know is that "he's such a good guy". (which is true if he's just a passing acquaintance or someone you don't have to depend on for anything) Since I am the one voicing discontent; it must be my fault. Bullshit. Not true.
But that doesn't change the fact that sometimes I want to smash his fucking face in.
You know, they say that once someone in a marriage begins to look at his or her partner with contempt, the marriage is irredeemable.
I have been looking at him like that for more weeks and months and years than I care to consider. The sheer mountain of time repulses me because I can't seem to properly rip off the band-aid. I set a horrible example for my children by accepting a life which is so far removed from what I want. My marriage feels like a prison sentence, or a penance. It's jarringly upsetting and it makes me sad and angry every single day.
I just want it to be over. I want my kids to say, "yes, my parents are divorced, but they get along well" rather than "my parents have no love for each other". I feel bad about making them live in a house where there is no parental relationship, just passive-aggressive non-conversation. If he would just go away, I could begin to hate him less. A kind of healing could start to happen, and I could forgive him for all the grief he had inflicted on me. But he won't let that happen. No matter what I do or say - no matter how mean I am or how many times I tell him I don't love him and I don't want to be with him any more - he just hangs around. No personal dignity. No self-respect. How can you love someone who doesn't love themselves?
I don't.
